Universes
by colorful swirls
Summary: AU. And so it changed nothing.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

* * *

Hermione sat in her wooden seat, craning her neck and holding hard to Ron's hand to keep herself calm. _Harry's in the third task_, she repeated in her mind. _He's going to win - everything's going to be fine._

But it wasn't. Something was going to happen - she could tell, she had a feeling - and it wasn't going to be good.

It wasn't going to be good.

.

Albus Dumbledore held his hands clasped tightly in his lap. The golden silk of his robes rippled in the wind. His long white beard fluttered around his face, but he paid no attention.

His eyes were fixed on the maze, the maze that was supposedly "safe."

It wasn't safe. That, he knew - but as to how unsafe, or who would be targeted, he had not a clue.

Well, technically, he had a _theory_ of who would be unsafe (did Harry really count? He was never safe).

Albus Dumbledore watched the maze with growing distress.

.

"It'll be fine, Hermione," Ron said for what felt the hundredth time. "Harry is going to be alright."

The shivering witch in his arms just shook her head. She had some crazy idea that - that someone was going to die. Or something.

"It's just the bloody Triwizard Tournament." Ignoring the tiny voice inside him that agreed with Hermione, he tugged her up to look at her face. "Harry's going to to be fine, just like all the other champions."

In response, she let out one last worried sob.

.

Everything went smoothly in the beginning.

Of course, no one in the crowd was completely consoled, but it seemed as though the stormy clouds above them were just that - clouds, not horrible omens.

But Hermione wasn't fooled. Nor was a certain white-bearded professor, who sat with his wand out and ready.

.

Red sparks came from the maze. Instantly, there was an uproar, everyone standing up to try and see where they'd come from.

"Oh, no!" Hermione shrieked, standing up in her chair. Everyone's nerves were wound tight - too tight. It wouldn't be long before they unraveled, and all chaos would break loose.

"It's fine," Neville whispered from in front of Ron and Hermione. "It's Krum."

"Krum?" Her eyebrows raised instantly. "Viktor sent up the sparks?"

"Why is that so unbelievable?" Ron asked, his voice turned sour. "Because it's Viktor, and he's just unbeatable - "

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Forget it, Ron."

.

Things went almost without dilemma from there. Neville and Ron struck up a conversation about how much they missed Quidditch - _Boys_, Hermione thought - while Albus watched the skies get darker and darker.

Ron was teasing Hermione - "Really, Neville, she was crying, she was so worried! Can you believe that? It's just the Triwizard Tournament, for Merlin's sake!" - when everything went black.

.

Whenever his eyes opened again, Ron felt a bit - a _lot_ - different.

For one, he was standing in a foggy field all alone. Second -

Wait, was that gray foggy figure Harry? What was _he_ doing here?

"Ron," came a whisper from his right.

"Hermione," he answered, excited now that he wasn't alone. "What's going on? Where are we?"

"I don't know," said Hermione, shuddering and giving him a half-hearted _I told you so_ look. "But it's not going to be good."

.

When the fog cleared (somewhat), many wished it would come back.

They were standing in a graveyard - all of Hogwarts, Beaxbutons, and Durmstrang, looking on as something unclear but distuinguishably evil took place.

No one could move; not even a slight shake of the head - only blinking was allowed. Talking was alright, though no one in the graveyard seemed to hear or see them.

·

After a few seconds of silence, there came a yell.

"Avada Kedavra!" A flash of green light; a thud, and they were all instantly panicking, rushing towards the sound.

Upon arriving, the group saw perhaps one of the most gruesome sights many of them had ever seen: Cedric Diggory, dead on the ground, Harry Potter, beside him looking haunted.

Harry was only frozen for a second, though; a short man was dragging him towards a marble tombstone.

_He killed Cedric_, Ron thought angrily towards the rodent-like figure. _He's a murderer._

.

"You!" Harry gasped as the man took his hood off. _Wormtail_, Hermione realized, and her stomach flipped. She grabbed Ron's hand quickly, feeling her own grow clammy.

For awhile, the only sounds were Voldemort's giant snake, slithering through the tall grass, and Wormtail's labored breathing as he struggled to complete whatever task he had been given.

"Is he actually making a _potion_?" Neville whispered incredulously from Hermione's other side, his voice baffled.

"Let's just hope he's not making what I think he's making, Mr. Longbottom," Snape answered, and for once, there was genuine fear in his voice, not just the usual snarky undertone.

.

_Is that a baby?_ Wormtail lifted a bundle of blankets - scarlet blankets - and dropped them in the cauldron, leaving Ron to wonder whether he even wanted to know what was happening.

.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

A crack, a hiss, a clang.

"Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you revive your master!"

A streak of silver, a thud, a cry of pain.

Hermione turned her head, disgusted. Ron felt a tinge of vague misery in the back of his mind, but it was overrun by the immense hatred he felt towards this man - this traitor.

"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe!"

A sharp intake of breath. A drop of crimson.

Ron yelled in outrage. Tears pooled in the corners of Hermione's eyes; Albus simply shook his head, as if he were reprimanding a student for staying up late after curfew.

The cauldron was simmering now, and after a moment, the sparks stopped, a thick, white smoke rose up, and Hermione knew that it was just the calm before the storm.

A man rose out of the cauldron. "Robe me," he ordered sharply.

Screams filled ears; emptiness filled hearts; terror filled bodies.

Lord Voldemort had risen again.

.

No one could make out specific details from so far away, with the night sky around them (but no one wanted to look, anyway).

But they could tell that this man didn't haunt nightmares, or cause pain; this man was the nightmare.

This man was pain.

.

Slowly, Death Eaters began to arrive. Gasps and cold glares were sent to many Slytherins when their parents arrived on the scene; many were threatened and almost-attacked, but the professors had been sent to the graveyard, too.

Draco Malfoy received a very, very scary look from two certain fourth years.

.

Ron didn't pay attention to Voldemort's evil plan to kill Harry and rule the world; he realized that he didn't want to hear it after his ears caught the words "I killed my father."

Hermione listened carefully with eyes wide and full of horror. Albus held his head high, sighing while listening with rapt attention to what the little orphan boy had become.

A monster, he thought, and regretted it instantly, because he had absolutely no space to call others monsters.

Even Voldemort, who truly was one.

.

After the talking was done, Wormtail got a new arm; a silver, quicker one.

Wormtail untied Harry; Harry stood and dueled Voldemort.

Everything runs together in Ron's mind as he watches his best friend fight to the death with an evil conqueror.

.

"We bow to each other, Harry Potter," the he said, eyes glittering like a snakes' while Albus watched. "Come, the niceties must be observed...Dumbledore would like you to show manners...Bow to death, Harry..."

Albus bristled. Manners were manners, but he didn't approve of Harry bowing to Tom Riddle under any circumstances.

.

The words sent chills down Hermione's spine.

"And now - we duel."

Then, quicker than lightning or hatred, Harry was thrashing and screaming and the harsh sound of Voldemort's maniac laugh echoed in her ears.

.

He did it.

Neville stared at his friend, being put under the Cruciatus Curse and the Imperius Curse, and staying strong all the while.

It amazed him, but it sent a bitter taste into his mouth, as well, because if a fourteen-year-old could keep going, _why couldn't his parents_?

.

"I WON'T!"

Minerva McGonagall felt something akin to massive pride swell in stomach.

She'd been watching the horror show with her hands over her mouth, her eyes nearly shut, but when Harry's roar hit her eardrums she sat up straighter and let a half smile cross over her face quickly.

.

"We are not playing hide-and-seek, Harry," Voldemort said softly, coldly, and for the first time, Luna Lovegood felt like all the other's must feel.

She felt like, maybe, this man was evil, and just possibly, she should fight. And maybe, it was worth hurting - _dying_ - for, this war was.

.

Ron sat, mouth open, eyes bugging out. He looked at Harry's expression as people appeared, right out of the beam of light that had connected the two wands.

The figures - the people - had little color on them, they looked made of dense, gray smoke, but there was a splash of emerald in the woman's face.

Hermione would say that they weren't people, that they were apparitions of some sort, obviously, but Ron watched Lily Potter's bright, familiar green eyes drink in her son's appearance and he knew that she was a person.

(Because apparitions can't feel that much love.)

.

"Do it now," James whispered from beside Lily.

Lily.

His chest got smaller and smaller the longer he stared her face - the face he remembered, the face that haunted his everything.

.

Harry grabbed Cedric's arm, just before summoning the portkey, and Cho broke, the tears coming silently, rushing like a waterfall down her disheveled face.

.

Hermione blinked, and when she opened her eyes again, she was sitting in her seat, back in the bleachers, like she'd never left.

.

Ron felt a little disoriented - it'd only been a few seconds that he'd been asleep, but somehow it seemed like he had just waken up from a vivid and long nightmare.

.

Years later, looking into his newest nephew's eyes, Ron thought he'd seen those eyes before, and not on Harry.

That was ridiculous, though, of course, because Albus's paternal grandmother had died before Ron could fully walk.

.

They all forgot, though, except for Harry, and it made no difference.

And so it changed nothing.

* * *

**A/N: **This is for throw-out-your-doubts, who gave me this idea a long time ago and this is really, really overdue, but I hope you like the finally finished product. :)

Written For:

- The If You Dare Challenge, Prompt #2 (vague misery).

Review, please!


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